


The 5 Second Rule

by TwoCoffeeSpoons



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Cooking, Blogging, Chance Meetings, Cooking, Dorks in Love, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCoffeeSpoons/pseuds/TwoCoffeeSpoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ludwig, a helpless home cook, turns to a YouTube channel for guidance. Feliciano has a popular cooking vlog, and is adorable. Ludwig can't help having a crush on him. But of course a meet-cute is inevitable...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lieve is Belgium

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
NEW: Conosco I Miei Polli Episode 57: “Dishes Your Nonna Warned You About.” Youtube.com/watch…

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
Remember: You’ll need plenty of wine for this one. Clarification: For you to drink, not for the dish.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
If you don’t drink, this recipe will drive you to it.

**L.Beilschmidt** @L_Beilschmidt  
@salsadipomodoro I take it this one isn’t for beginners?

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadimpomodoro  
RT: @L_Beilschmidt I take it this one isn’t for beginners? Beginners should skip the vid and head straight for the wine :)!

***

In retrospect, Ludwig should have followed Feliciano Vargas’s advice about the wine. With some chagrin he dumped the glue-like mess that was supposed to be spinach pasta in the trash. Oh well, there was always takeout. Of course, he had started following numerous food blogs so that he could get away from having takeout every night, but such was life. He closed his eyes and selected a random takeout menu from the drawer under his microwave; he tried not to sigh when he opened them and saw that it was the Chinese place around the corner again. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Chinese food but he was beginning to feel like a loser because they knew his order when he called. He thought about ordering double so they would think he had company, or possibly justifying himself by saying that he was new to the city, but he thought that maybe lying to his delivery people was a new low. 

The being new to the city wasn’t a complete lie, he had lived in his current apartment for 6 months or so and was in a totally different area than he had been before. Not that his change in local was really what left him alone most nights. He worked hard, and late, which was not conducive to company, unless that company was his brother. But Gilbert was recently married and Ludwig doubted that Elizabeta would appreciate him stealing Gilbert away so they could eat takeout. Elizabeta was an excellent cook and surely Gilbert was better served eating with her.

One day Ludwig could maybe invite them over for dinner. If he could figure out how to work anything in his kitchen. He knew how it all worked in theory, he had read the manuals, but he just lacked the magic touch to make a successful meal. He had set up a system to denote which recipes he had made successfully and which ones he had botched. Had they been paper copies the botched pile would have spanned several binders while successful would have been just a few lonely pages. Maybe his latest disaster had come from the fact that he was drinking beer, not wine, while trying to bring the dough together. Or maybe, he was just hopeless. He sighed and closed the window he had _Conosco I Miei Polli_ open in, and opened another for a delivery service in the city. He would be paying a premium to have the food delivered by them and not by the restaurant itself, but they would bring him beer and he wouldn’t have to suffer an indignity.

 

He ate his food, and then went to bed early.

That was his life.

 

***

He woke before his alarm the next morning; muscle memory had already sent his arm out to turn it off before he realized the room was silent. This happened every morning so he wasn’t entirely surprised. He got out of bed and shuffled into the shower, hoping against hope that there would be some hot water. There wasn’t. That was also an everyday occurrence so no surprises there either. After his shower it took him exactly fifteen minutes to get dressed and get out of the door. He had no concept of walking slowly so he found he was very early for his train which gave him time to check his email and social media accounts before it got there. He couldn’t read on the train, it made him feel ill.

To his surprise the tweet that Feliciano Vargas had mentioned him in had been re-tweeted several hundred times. It made him feel slightly better that other people were apparently new to this food thing as well. He wondered if any of them had actually tried to recipe or just went straight for the wine. Or if any of them ever tried to recipes at all. Feliciano had a subset of followers who was just there for his charm and good looks. When Lieve had suggested the series to him, she had even said something about Feliciano being easy on the eyes and adorable as her reasoning for watching. Feliciano was good looking, yes, but Ludwig genuinely wanted to learn how to cook.

By the time his train arrived Ludwig had just barely scrolled through all the re-tweets. One advantage to getting up as early as he did was that the trains were considerably less crowded; he was even able to grab a seat. He dug through his bag until he came up with his headphones and plugged them into his phone. He hit the shuffle button several times before something he actually wanted to listen to came up. He let the music distract him until his stop.  
The train got filled as he got closer to downtown and he was up elbowing his way to the door two stops early. Then he stood in line at the station’s Starbucks for what seemed like an hour before he finally made it to work. He was nearly the first one into the office and he went around leaving people’s coffee at their workstations before he settled into his own. Lieve’s chai latte he kept at his own desk. He knew she would stop by there first. He cracked his knuckles and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lieve is Belgium


	2. Chapter 2

Red, White and Booze Episode 24

  
  
ALFRED: So here at “Red, White and Booze” we are all about parties and events and as you know there is a pretty big event coming up this weekend in Sterling. I, of course, am talking about the pride parade. So I am happy to announce that this is our second annual “Beers and Queers” edition, where some special guests and I teach you how to optimize your pride weekend,. Today’s guests are Feliciano Vargas from “Conosco I Miei Polli”, who you may remember from the now infamous Campari episode, and Francis Bonnefoy from “The French National Sport” who you may know for being my brother-in-law as well as secretly being Julia Child. Hey guys.  
  
FRANCIS: Salut  
  
FELICIANO: Ciao  
  
ALFRED: Since I have no idea what either of those things means, I will just assume that you are both pumped to be here.  
  
[laughter]  
  
ALFRED: These guys are going to handle the eats and I am going to handle your alcohol. As always, please enjoy responsibly. On today’s menu we have Italian chicken wings-  
  
FELICIANO: Italian style chicken wings, that is. I don’t want any angry e-mails, those make me equal parts sad and amused.  
  
ALFRED: Right, Italian  _style_  chicken wings, a fresh Roquefort salad and few delicious beer cocktails which you can make in large batches. Does the salad have French dressing on it? Don’t give me that look Francis, I kid.  
  
FRANCIS: Do not mention that ketchup laden tragedy to me.  
  
ALFRED: Well we may have to wrestle in a kiddie pool of it later so I can defend ketchup’s honor. But I’ll wait until we’ve had a few. But for now, I’ll throw it to Feliciano who, through the magic of video editing, will show us how to make chicken wings in 5 minutes.  
  


***

  
  
Ludwig found the chicken wings easier to tackle than the homemade pasta. He would have been truly hopeless if he couldn’t handle some chicken. He did have to take a trip to the store to stock his ignored spice cabinet. Feliciano, of course, had used mostly fresh but one could do that when they cooked every day. For Ludwig it simply wasn’t cost effective. He also skipped the Roquefort salad. Being gourmet wasn’t important enough to him to spend over 5 dollars on  _cheese_. So he opted to get one of those salads in a bag. It was perfectly acceptable. So was watching the parade from the comfort of his balcony, no matter what anyone else said. Lieve had sent him a few inspiring snap chats but there wasn’t any convincing him to hit the streets. Maybe he would go next year. But most likely he would not. Large crowds were not his scene. Actually, he wasn’t entirely sure what his scene was.   
  
He had tried sports which he was too aggressive at, painting which he had frequently made the teacher huff in disgust, and guitar lessons which he had given up after 2 sessions, he was just that bad. Lieve was always telling him he needed a hobby, or a boyfriend. He had adamantly refused to try online dating so he had gone on a date with Lieve’s brother, that had almost ruined their friendship, but at least she had stopped pestering him about dating. At least his latest venture involved being in the comfort of his own apartment while he screwed up.  
  
Ultimately, the chicken wings turned out kind of dry. While in great contrast to the juicy rendition that Feliciano had cut into in the video, they were mostly edible. Plus, he had enjoyed the beer cocktails, which was a surprise to him as he thought beer was perfect on its own. All and all it hadn’t been a bad day. Just a tad boring without work to go to, Ludwig resented weekends sometimes. Berwald had banned him from working on them. Ludwig had tried to argue that he would be more productive without the distraction of other workers, but Berwald had only given him a look and told him to get out more.  _Berwald_  told him to get out more; Berwald worked 12 hour days when he could. But it was Berwald’s company Ludwig supposed he could do whatever he wanted.  
  
He had considered trying a cooking class but those were a little too expensive for his taste. Especially when he could find much more interesting recipes online and not have anyone judging his efforts, the issue was finding a site that was his speed. Granted, his speed was probably ‘microwave meals for one’. However he had always been stubborn so he just made things that he thought he might like. He tried not to be too fancy; the homemade pasta attempt had been an indulgence. He wasn’t strapped for cash but he had grown up frugally and wasn’t going to change now. He and Gilbert would sort of laugh when they discussed their dearly departed father and his budgets, he was probably spinning in his grave because Gilbert had just returned from a honeymoon in Hawaii. Though maybe he had a smile on his face because Gilbert had finally settled down, on the anniversary of his two years of sobriety Ludwig had sent Elizabeta a ridiculous fruit basket. She was a great girl; Ludwig sort of wished she had a brother. Though considering his track record with people’s brothers, maybe that would have been a bad idea.  
  
He sighed and popped the cap off of another beer. He could have mixed it into a cocktail but decided against it this time. It was good beer, some little microbrewery on the edge of the city that was legend on “Red, White and Booze”. Ludwig had not yet ventured to it directly but he had plans to do so. Of course he had had those plans for weeks and had yet to go, maybe in a few more he would have the drive. Going that far involved far too many train and bus transfers for his liking so he would have to be feeling particularly adventurous. Gilbert always told him to just bite the bullet and buy a car, but Gilbert lived in the suburbs and wouldn’t have to pay the parking costs. He thought Gilbert was really just hinting that he should move closer, but he had no reason to purchase a house. He was single after all and even though he would have liked to own a dog, though he had a feeling he wouldn’t have had the time for one. He leaned back in his chair and set his feet on the railing as the fireworks started, besides, if he moved to the suburbs he would miss things like this. The big finale was huge and people on the street cheered, Ludwig toasted them from far above.   
  
Sometimes, life was great.


	3. Chapter 3

>   
>  _Excerpt from “Saucy Sterling”_ **Tomatoes Come In Cans And Other Lies Your Parents Told You: A Profile And Q &A With Feliciano Vargas**
> 
> ...but Vargas, 26, is running late. Seventeen minutes late by my watch, I am neither worried or surprised, his reputation as a hurricane in all kinds of weather precedes him. I’m endlessly shuffling my notecards when he bursts through the door. Everyone turns to look at him as he stumbles over the door mat and nearly falls, some doing double takes before returning to their conversations.
> 
> He shuffles to my table disheveled, near tears, and out of breath. There is paint smeared on his cheek; he has on mismatched sneakers. I will admit that I don’t know if that’s fashion or hurried mistake. I should be mad, but he is undeniably charming with his wide eyes and chestnut curls. I want to both scold him for being late and pat his head with motherly affection.He sits down and almost immediately a glass of wine, deep and red, appears at his elbow. They know him here, people are starting to know him all over Sterling and beyond.
> 
> Even at my age, the magic and mystery of the internet isn’t lost on me. Just as it can broadcast a tired old journalist’s words to millions, it can make a technically unemployed, art and culinary school dropout and first generation immigrant a media darling. _Saucy Sterling_ had me sit down him to separate the man from the hype.
> 
> **Does you _Nonna_ really have input into the show?**
> 
> I get asked that a lot but I am sad to say that is a bit of a behind-the-scenes white lying. She did teach me all the basics of cooking a nice Italian meal and I’m sure that she’s thrilled that her recipes are reaching a wide variety of people, but getting her on the phone is hard, let alone sending her a video. Last time I talked to her she asked when the last time I went to confession was and whether I had met any nice girls. That’s how you know you’re dealing with a real Italian Grandma, you know, she doesn’t want to hear about ‘pretty’ girls just ‘nice’ girls.
> 
> **To get personal, the next logical question for me is are you seeing any girls, nice or otherwise?**
> 
> [crosses himself somewhat sardonically] Oh, I see plenty of people, sorry my unlikely-to-be-reading- _Nonna_ , but I have a wild and fickle heart. No, I’m not seeing anyone in particular, but you know I do see people. If you know anyone who is tall, muscular and easy on the eyes, you can pass on my number.
> 
> **So you’re gay?**
> 
> Hey, no I didn’t say that. It’s 2015 labels are for spice racks. Women can be quite tall and muscular. What I am really looking for is someone who can wrestle into my loft when I’ve had too much to drink. Though they probably can’t wrestle me on the loft, I’m not sure it is sturdy enough for that kind of thing...You probably can’t print that last part right? Sh*t , you are going to print that last part aren’t you?
> 
> **Well this is a personal profile, and they don’t call use _Saucy Sterling_ for nothing. But maybe we have veered a little off course. Tell me about your cooking styles and influences, besides your dear _nonna_ of course.**
> 
> Yikes, yeah I guess we should start talking about food so I can get the taste of my foot out of my mouth. Maybe we can plan a dinner for my Mother, so she’ll start speaking to me again after she recovers from the coronary this article will surely give her. Sorry Mom, as for cooking styles like an good Italian boy…

***

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
I hope you all picked up Saucy Sterling to see me being a huge jackass. Come find me drowning in booze in any local dive bar.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro 

Anyone up for self loathing and shots?

**Alfred F. Jones** @Notorious_AFJ  
@salsadipompdoro It wasn't that bad. I mean u r a jackass for sure but OUR jackass. Don't do anyone I wouldn't, avoid vodka,it makes you unbearably weepy.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
@Notorious_AFJ You are truly the most sensitive and caring individual I know. I sure hope the doctor can clear up your rash, so you can settle down  <3

**Alfred F. Jones** @Notorious_AFJ  
@salsadipomodoro Way harsh, Nonna needs to wash out ur mouth with soap! I see u r into the whisky, THAT makes you combative.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
@Notorious_AFJ Truce, and I am having a lovely Sutter Home blush, we all know what happens then. But I won’t do anyone you wouldn’t, scouts honor. 

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
Someone is staring at me on my walk of shame. I must smell like cheap wine.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadimpomodoro  
Fan? Serial Killer? Not an old acquaintance I’d remember this face. They like my hangover look, I’m in.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadimpomodoro  
Let’s be friends train platform guy.Usually, I smell better.

**Alfred F. Jones** @ Notorious_AFJ  
@salsadipomodoro I can certainly smell the desperation from here #thirst

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
@Notrious_AFJ I’m making drunken social connections, like any good chef. This is 100% business.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
Missed connections category, he got on a different train.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
If you were staring at me in the Forrester train station, DM me your shirt/tie color and umbrella pattern. Thanks.

**Feliciano Vargas** @salsadipomodoro  
@salsadipomodoro Hey Feliciano, delete this shit when you are sober! No love, Feliciano.

***  
Ludwig read the message string no more than six times. He didn’t think he had been staring, well at least not obviously. Maybe it wasn’t him. Or the whole thing was rhetorical and he was an idiot for thinking of responding. He set his phone in his desk drawer, then fished it back out. Everyone always did tell him to be more adventurous. Feliciano was shorter and just as handsome in person. Even if he smelled like cheap wine, was incredibly rumpled, and had that puffy face one got from staying out all night.

Ludwig had never done that much, not even in college. He had responsibilities, and bills to pay, and discipline, and no friends. He was going to make up for lost time while he could, he decided suddenly. At least he could tell his therapist that he had done something new, though he would edit the details. At worst, he didn’t get a reply.

He swiped his phone open and typed a simple direct message: _black,blue,pawprints_ , then sent it before he could discard it.  
He leaned back in his chair and sent Lieve a one word text: _Help_.

She didn’t reply but her heard her heels clacking down the hall in short order.

She stopped in his office door and tilted her head in confusion when she saw his face. He knew he was blushing because his face was incredibly hot. He wordlessly slid his phone across the desk.

She read it, scrolled up and read it again, then snorted, “ Ludwig it is standard train etiquette to not stare or interact with anyone in any way. But hey, he apparently thinks you’re cute. Too bad you’d never do anything abou--” she studied his face again “ _You didn’t_.”

“ Should I delete it?” He was biting at his cuticles, a bad but very soothing habit.

“What? Hell no you shouldn’t. I hope he responds.What are you going to do if he responds?” Her voice pitched up in excitement. 

“Panic.” He answered truthfully.

“ Don’t be a baby! I’ll be your cyber Cyrano and you’ll be wrestling him in no time.”

His face flamed again, she had sent him that article in _Saucy Sterling_ , she was onto him.  
“Lieve, he won’t respond, it probably wasn’t even me. Wrestling is not on the agenda.” He really knew better than to tell Lieve anything. He hoped that the ground would open and swallow him at any moment.

“ You know Ludwig, if you would occasionally wrestle someone you’d be less uptight. Do you hear that? Berwald is calling, some of us have work to do, have fun sexting.” She gave him a sarcastic little wave and briskly walked down the hall before he could even make an indignant noise.

He was going to delete it and forget about the whole thing. He had no hobbies. He had no social skills. He had--a new follower on twitter--it was easy to tell, before the number had been 0. It was from a locked account: **WildWinterWarmCoffee** @snowinginvenice. Their user picture was a very well done tattoo, of a crossed paintbrush and chef’s knife. Ludwig fumbled with his phone and nearly dropped it. He stared at the screen for maybe a minute and a thousand thoughts ran through his head so it felt like an hour. He followed the account back and his stomach flip flopped while he waited for something to happen. Which made no sense, he scolded himself for acting like a teenage girl. _This_ time he turned his phone off before he locked it in the drawer. He was going to ignore it until the end of the work day, he had already wasted valuable time.

He made it until lunch.  
***  
****

Direct Messages

**WildWinterWarmCoffee** @snowinginvenice  
Hi? I'm really surprised/glad/embarrassed you responded. 5 simple questions: Name?Age?Queer?Single? Favorite Food?

**L.Beilschmidt** @ L_Beilschmidt  
Ludwig.22.Very.Yes.Potatoes.

**WildWinterWarmCoffee** @snowinginvenice  
You like beer? You must with a name like Ludwig and a love of potato products.

**L.Beilschmidt** @L_Beilschmidt  
I can’t trust a person who doesn’t drink beer. If that answers your question.

**WildWinterWarmCoffee** @snowinginvenice  
Ha! Well if you were to show up at Brazen Belle around 9 tomorrow with a friend or two, and an empty stomach I wouldn't be mad.

**L.Beilschmidt** @L_Beilschmidt  
I wouldn’t want to shake up any dormant Italian fury. 

**WildWinterWarmCoffee** @snowinginvenice  
Careful, I might bend you over my knee.

**L.Beilschmidt** @L_Beilschmidt  
Careful, I may like it.  


***

Ludwig sent the last one before he really thought about it. All of the air in his lungs exited immediately with a noise reminiscent of a child squeezing a balloon. He wished twitter had an undo button. He did not flirt, he was not particularly bold at things he hadn’t practiced over and over. He shoved his phone in his bag and practically jogged down the hall and threw open the door to Berwald’s office. People said Ludwig had a stone face, but Berwald was much, much worse but he did twitch a little when the door rebounded off the wall. Ludwig winced internally, he could fix that gouge later.

“I think I’m sick and I need to go home.” It wasn’t a lie, he had started to feel sick. The feeling only increased when he realized he was going to miss half a work day. “ I’m sorry I make it up next week and-”

Berwald blinked twice.

“You have never taken a day off. Right dear, he’s never taken a day off? You look flushed Ludwig. Do you feel faint? What did you eat last night? Where does it hurt?” Ludwig had not even noticed that Tino was sitting there until he spoke, now he was pressing his hand on Ludwig’s forehead with genuine concern. Which made Ludwig feel even worse, everyone in the office jokingly called Tino ‘Mom’. Though Ludwig had never met a real Mom who regularly participated in mosh pits. “Stick out your tongue and say ah.” 

“Tino.” Berwald said slowly.

Tino stopped, but only after he unnecessarily patted Ludwig’s collar into to place. 

“I’m just--my head--,” Ludwig sputtered, “maybe I can come back at 7?” he finished weakly.

“Ludwig, go home. Stay home.” Berwald mumbled and turned back to his computer. So that was that.

Ludwig barrelled past Lieve and mouthed ‘later’ at her, and for the second time that day she stared at him like he had two heads. He didn’t worry about fiscal responsibility for once and hailed a cab.

He was an _idiot_.

His phone buzzed as he unlocked his door and he got his key stuck when all he got back on twitter was a winky face, _a winky face_. He had never gotten a winky face in his life. He couldn’t decide if that response was good or bad, if the experience was good or bad. So he just tossed his phone onto the couch.Maybe a shower would clear his head, his shower was always cold afterall.

It sort of worked, or maybe it was the fact that he jerked off.

He was so fucked, or not fucked he supposed. Maybe Lieve was right, he should let off steam. He had no clue how to let off steam. He could hear his phone going off incessantly, he didn’t have it in him to get up and get it. Maybe he would just quit his job, delete his social media and go off the grid. Or jump off a bridge. Or, said the voice of the devil on his shoulder;the devil that spoke rarely but always did so in the voice of his brother: you could put on your big boy pants and go.

By the time he grabbed his phone and sent a screenshot to Lieve, he had decided he was a young, available adult and he was going to go.


	5. Chapter 5

“ I can’t go.” Ludwig obsessively twisted and untwisted his napkin. He suspected it would be permanently wrinkled, he hoped Eliza would forgive him. “It was a joke. I’m a joke. A prank and it will go viral and I will shrivel up and die in ag--”

“Ludwig!” Eliza slapped her hand on the table and the glassware rattled. “Stop freaking out. You are losing it, and torturing my linens.”

Gilbert poorly disguised a snort into his glass, “You know she calls that ‘Ludwig’s Napkin’. It is a napkin provided for your anxiety. A kind of security blanket, like that one with the dogs you held onto until you were what? Fifteen.”

Eliza swatted Gilbert’s arm with the same force she had slapped the table with, “God don’t say that! You’ll make him feel worse.”

“He’s fine, he’s aware I’m just fucking with him.” He raised his eyebrows at Ludwig. Ludwig’s napkin twisting intensified. 

“You know _dear_ , a lifetime of your teasing has probably left him with deep seated trauma. Look at his face, that is the face of a man developing an ulcer. A man who loses years of his life every time he sits at our table.”

They continued to squabble smiling at each other the whole time, the smiling was infectious. He dropped the napkin, and they both swiveled to look at him.

“Are you entertained Lulu? Does our faltering marriage amuse you? You are tearing this family apart.” Gilbert covered his face in mock anguish.

“He learned it from you.” Eliza said gravely.

Ludwig laughed despite himself. If he wasn’t ninety-nine percent certain that he could never be that comfortable with someone, it was the kind of relationship he would want. But awkward and uncomfortable was his path in life. At this point he was locked in.

“Look at that, Ludwig’s smile in the wild. This is very rare, like bigfoot, we should get a picture.” Gilbert reached for his pocket and Ludwig straightened his lips instantly.

“He is adorable,” Eliza clapped her hands “and he’s going to have an amazing date.”

“I’m really not sure I’m goi-” Ludwig unconsciously reached for the napkin again. Eliza was faster, she tossed it over her shoulder.

“What should we work on first? Wardrobe?” She looked from Gilbert to Ludwig and back again.

Gilbert took a long swallow of his water, an old habit from his drinking days. “God Eliza it’s a big job, we’re going to need a makeover montage.”

“You’re absolutely right.” She did finger guns,”Drop the beat.”

Gilbert obliged with some terrible dubstep song, they bobbed their heads in unison. They were a hivemind of mischief. He didn’t stand a chance.

***

“I’m not wearing this.” Ludwig braced his body against the bathroom door, he didn’t trust Eliza to not barge in. He was fully dressed, but it was a small bathroom with nowhere to hide.

“It’s just a t-shirt, you wear t-shirts all the time.” Eliza tried to sound perfectly innocent, but the leer was implied.

“ I wear t-shirts that _fit_. I can hear the seams creaking in protest.” That was true, every time he moved his arms the shirt pulled and popped ominously.

“It isn’t too small, I bet you look hot. All that nervous energy you burn off with solitary, but vigorous, workouts has done you well.” She must have thought he lowered his defenses because the door rattled.

“Are you trying to get a date for Ludwig or _with_ Ludwig? He’s gay Eliza. He’s known since he was 7 and had funny feelings about his math teacher. It crossed his wires and now he is sexually attracted to math as well.” Gilbert shouted from the living room where he had been banished to.

“I’m more than man enough, right Ludwig? I can even count and do long division, we’d be perfect for each other.” The door rattled again.

“You’d be a very attractive man.” Ludwig conceded. Though he itched to point out that long division wasn’t very difficult at all.

“Thank you, but you’re like a little brother to me, and I haven’t done long division since high school. Now open the door. Please.” She was pouting.

Ludwig sighed, he knew it was a ruse, but he did consider her family. He made it a point to not shun family.Family made up a large part of his friend group. He wasn’t sure what it said about him that one person was a blow to his list of friends, but it was very true. He stepped away from the door and it flew open immediately.

The look on her face made him cross his arms defensively.

“Oh _yes_ ,that’s the shirt we’re going with.” She rubbed her hands together, “Now for your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” He smoothed it back impulsively.

“ What you just did is the problem. It’s tortured. It needs style. Do you know what a pompadour is?” She waved a tiny comb at him.

“I have a feeling I’ll be finding out soon. You won’t be cutting it or doing something else permanent right?” She shook her head but the glint in her eyes told another story. “Eliza…”

“No scissors, just a little clipping and some heat and plenty of hairspray. Would I ever steer you wrong?” She waved the comb again.Ludwig slumped his shoulders in defeat.

It was going to be a _very_ long afternoon.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Eliza dropped him off he had out stressed himself and was relatively calm. He was sure the best case scenario would happen: he would get stood up. It seemed counter intuitive but he figured he could have a beer or two with Lieve, grab an Uber, and be home in time to get in his full 8 hours. No awkward social interactions, or internet humiliations, and only 4 people would ever know. He was so confident in this scenario, that it was a complete betrayal when he walked in the door ,and was confronted with a table full of his co-workers waving at him.

For a small moment, he considered sprinting off into the night and never coming back. After his disastrous first day of kindergarten, he had run away to live with wolves. After the initial anger-panic hybrid mode his father was in faded;he had explained in the gravest terms possible that wolves were not the family dog. Ludwig had been crushed, but deep down thought _maybe_ wolves would be preferable to people. Lieve must have known what he was thinking, well not about wolves, because she appeared at this elbow and grabbed his hand like a vice. 

“Stay cool. They just think this is a nice outing amongst friends.” She started to tug him forward, and he remembered that he was a large, solid person.

He planted his feet, and she nearly toppled off her heels. “Why?” He had no idea why he was stage whispering, it just conveyed the gravitas of the situation.

“Look, Tino was worried. I said you had some kind of 24 bug and were right as rain. Then everyone was fretting about your stress level, then Mathias said we should buy you several drinks...and I told him we were going out. They were thrilled you were okay and invited themselves.” She smiled in that way one does when they hope you aren’t mad.

The wheels in Ludwig’s head turned at lightning speed, and all he managed was: “ _You were talking about me_?” 

Lieve looked stricken, “Everyone likes you, just face it. We worry about your general well being. I mean they were very concerned. Remember that time you had strep throat ,and came in anyway. Then you turned your office into a quarantine chamber? It was impressive if not neurotic. So much hand sanitizer! So many gloves! You handed out courtesy masks! So you left early, and they really thought you were dying. Emil cried.”

Ludwig snorted and some of the tension fled his body, “Emil did not cry.” Breathe in, breathe out, he could do this.

“I’m sure he cried on the inside. I bet he went home and listened to The Black Parade for hours. If Feliciano doesn’t show tonight just accept that you will have to wait a few years and marry Emil.” She grinned.

Crisis averted, Ludwig had to laugh at that. Nils angsty brother did--something-- around the office for 15 hours a week. People claimed 14 of those hours were just waiting for Ludwig acknowledge him. Ludwig thought it was just that they were both introverts, and Ludwig never teased him because of this. He didn’t even do it over the suddenly silver hair, though he found it to be a bit much.

He let Lieve lead him through the crowd and was slightly overwhelmed by everyone’s enthusiasm in greeting him. He was barely settled when a beer was slammed in front of him. There was an ongoing conversation about the most embarrassing things everyone had ever experienced. He got so engrossed in a story about Tino’s Mom trying to become a metalhead, he started to forget why he was even nervous. Until someone leaned onto Ludwig’s shoulder. Ludwig almost jumped out of his skin and Lieve barely contained a spit take. Ludwig shifted slightly to stare, at just about the same time everyone else did. There was dead silence.

Feliciano tittered through a nervous smile, “Security breach? Embarassing story tax: I burnt my eyebrows off trying to use a blowtorch to make paninis. Don’t do that, it sets off the fire alarm and all your neighbors hate you. I’m going to steal your friend, bye!” He did a weird double wave slash jazz hands, and started edging away. Ludwig was proud of himself he was out of his seat before Lieve’s elbow jab to his ribs could connect. He ignored the chorus of gasped ‘what's’ the echoed behind him too; that was really something to be proud of. He followed Feliciano up a flight up stairs to a tiny somewhat secluded table in the corner of the mezzanine.

They sat. They stared at each other. They both blurted “sorry”.

Feliciano laughed, it was sweet and made Ludwig feel warm all over. Or maybe that was just his blood pressure rising, and he’d pass out shortly.

“ I’m the worst,” Feliciano was pressing his forehead into his hands. “I was watching for you to come in. Then I lost my nerve, and got it back in time to be awkward, and now I’m babbling. Hi, Ludwig! I’m Feliciano, and I made you this.” He picked a foil covered pan off of the empty chair and slid it in front of Ludwig.

Ludwig’s heart fluttered. Whatever the foil was hiding smelled wonderful. Feliciano was unbearably cute, and most importantly he said Ludwig’s name right. There were few things more painful than explaining his name wasn’t ‘Luhd-wig’ and then having them say it wrong every time.

Feliciano’s smile was starting to falter, and Ludwig realized he was staring when he should have been speaking. Speaking was not his strong point, “I wasn’t sure you would be here at all. At least you had faith in the situation?” Ludwig screamed at himself internally for sounding like he thought Feliciano was a ne’er-do-well. Ludwig had gathered he was sensitive about that after the _Saucy Sterling_ profile. “I mean I--I don’t do this. I am so bad at it.” He finished weakly.

Feliciano’s nose scrunched up like he was holding in a laugh, “This?”. He provided helpful air quotes

“Socialize, I’m a little weird.” Ludwig had started to rip thin strips of foil from the corner of the platter. He was dangerous on cloth, he was murder on paper products.

“You are _so cute_! Do you blush like that all over?”

“I am not.” Ludwig sputtered, and it wasn’t anyone’s business but his, but he did blush like that all over. He wondered if that was a turn off; he wondered when he started worrying about turn offs. 

“ You are, and- “ Feliciano leaned over the table and started to stage whisper, “-you never make eye contact with anyone at Forrester Street Station. Which I would know, because I’m weird and I see you there all of time. You are my missed connection of record. I don’t presume people stare because I’m a Z list celebrity, but drunk logic dictated I tweet it. It worked and I’m in over my head.” Feliciano was really very fond of jazz hands, maybe only cooking utensils could prevent it.

“You’re lying.” Ludwig crossed his arms so his hands couldn’t fidget, “ I would have seen you.”

“I’m small, and out of your line of sight. Besides you are always have your headphones in. I’m always exhausted, and that stop is near my brother’s place. Believe me I’m snuggled in my hoodie sleeping on my way home. _But_ I sometimes peek out at the cute-office-guy and imagine we have beers over my food.” He eyed the platter expectantly.

At a loss, Ludwig peeled back the foil. It smelled great, though he had no idea what he was looking at. “It smells amazing. I’m afraid I don’t know what it is?”

“I’m so glad we are in my wheelhouse. That is a _torta di patate_. A tart filled with layers of buttery potato greatness. I hope you really do love starches. I’m going to go fetch us a pitcher of beer and steal some silverware. This is your chance to escape.” First jazz hands, and now finger guns, Ludwig was so charmed he was almost _angry_. 

Ludwig snorted, “Bring more than one, those are the smallest pitchers I’ve ever seen and starches are my main food group.”

Feliciano grinned, “Can I afford that? Did you read the profile in _Saucy Sterling_ I’m unemployed.”

“I won’t bore you with office guy talk, but I know plenty about property assessment. After watching your videos, I have to say you can’t be unemployed. Your place is nice, and in Venice Heights if I’m not mistaken.” Ludwig said all of that before he thought about it. He had just pulled back into the weirdo lead.

Feliciano blinked slowly, “Wow you have a specific set of office guy skills. I like it.” He was walking off and bouncing down the stairs before Ludwig could reply.

Ludwig hoped Feliciano wasn’t the one escaping now. To keep himself from shredding more foil he checked his phone. He had 16 texts, which was overwhelming. He didn’t read any of them, but sent one that said _I’m fine._ to Lieve. He was startled to realize he really was fine.

He was fine, and his wasn’t even lying to himself about it. He was absorbed in the feeling when Feliciano returned. It was impressive that he could balance three pitchers of beer, two pint glasses, and two rolls of silverware in his hands simultaneously. Ludwig was even more impressed when Feliciano perfectly poured the beer. He sat and offered Ludwig a fork with a flourish.

“Dig in.” He raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Aren’t you having some?” 

“I’m not poisoning you I just want to see something.” Feliciano smiled so earnestly, that Ludwig decided he _probably_ wasn’t poisoning him. So he took the first bite. It was perfect and he made the most embarrassing noise. Now Feliciano just looked pleased, “That is what I wanted to see.”

“What?” Ludwig wanted to know but he also wanted more of the tart and couldn’t stop looking at it.

“To see you have a foodgasm, 10/10 I’m very aroused.” He lifted one eyebrow.

Ludwig choked on his mouthful of tart, at least if he was going to die, death by fantastic food and sexual frustration was something that would amuse Gilbert. His eyes were watering as he washed it down with beer. 

“Let’s move on from innuendo before you die right here.” Feliciano laughed but Ludwig noted it wasn’t really _at_ him. “Let’s play a game.”

“ What kind of game?” Ludwig grimaced.

“We are just going to ask each other questions, and drink all the beer. You go first, ask me anything.” He linked his fingers and set his chin on them innocently.

“Where are you technically unemployed at?” Ludwig liked to be practical.

“I charm people into buying very expensive pieces from my sister-in-law’s boutique, it’s commision. It’s easy. Old lady looking at jewelry? Be knowledgeable and charming. Young lady looking at lingerie? Be ditzy and charming. That and ad-clicks of course. My turn what do you do?” he sipped his beer.

“The company flips houses. I mostly decided if a place will be cost effective to fix up, and the accounting.” He took a much larger sip of his beer. He was nervous.

He should have paced himself, but hindsight was 20/20.

***Hour 1***

“My question is why am I drinking twice as much as you. Bottoms up. My real que-”

Feliciano waved his hands in protest, “No,no,nope! That was your question. Who was your first celebrity crush?”

Ludwig flushed, or more flushed,he was getting a little tipsy, “I can’t.”

“Then finish your beer.” Feliciano pointed at it violently.

“You just added that rule!” Ludwig grabbed his hand, he didn’t know why, it just felt like the right thing to do.

“You have big hands. I will substitute my question for: is it true what they say about guys with big hands?” He had managed to thread their fingers together. 

Ludwig appreciated how smooth that was but was too outraged, that the rules changed again,” You just changed the rules _again_ , but, I’ll tell you anyway,” he pulled Feliciano’s hand closer so he had to lean over the table. “I do wear big gloves.” he deadpanned. Feliciano swatted at him and laughed so hard he snorted. 

Was Ludwig funny?

***Hour 2***

“That is _such_ a lie. You tried to live with wolves? “ Feliciano’s laughter shook both of them he had switched sides of the table, “How are you even real?”

“When two Germans love each other very much...a very strict stork brings them a baby. If they’ve filled out the appropriate forms, of course. That was your question. Mine is how do we even know what real is?”

Feliciano had such a look of mock betrayal on his face, “ I can’t believe you stole my chance at a question. First of all I hope you know that Italians are dropped off by wolves, so you should exceedingly jealous. To answer your second question, I have a demonstration,” he pinched Ludwig’s side. “Wow, do you have body fat? Like was that effective? How are you even real?”

“Yes. Not really. I answered that already, a very strict stork.”

If the laughter was any indication, Ludwig was _hilarious_.

***Hour 2.5***

“No I can’t leave, Lieve. He thinks I’m funny. Am I funny?” Ludwig was glad she had pulled him over to the railing, he needed a little standing still assistance.

“You are a dry kind of funny, sometimes. But seriously, we are clearing out, you should come.” She had a strange look on her face, Ludwig didn’t get why, but it was there.

“We are going to split an Uber. It’s cool. I’m fine. Did I tell you I might be funny?” He wasn’t used to smiling so much.

The look on her face pinched a little more, “I--just--don’t do anything you don’t want to okay? Just be safe.”

“Okay, I’m always safe? Safety is my thing. Look more beer is over there. Can I go? Can I go to the beer?” He grabbed her hand to convince her. She had such small hands, and she was so nice; he was happy they were friends. 

“Yes.” She sighed and he could feel her staring when he sat down. But then Feliciano put his beer back in his hand, and he stopped caring.

Maybe he should have asked what she meant?

***Hour 3***

Feliciano was more leaning on him than sitting,” Ludwig the beer is gone. Summon the Uber. You are in charge of the summoning.”

“Where should--this app is so ridiculous--where should the Uber take us?”

“I’m sure my place is closer. Here let me try to type the address.” 

He was right about his place being closer.

***Hour 3.5***

Feliciano kissed him in the car. He kissed him when they got out of the car. They pretty much only stopped kissing so he could unlock his door. Feliciano gestured at the loft and Ludwig could definitely lift him into it without even being on the sad little ladder. Feliciano was on top of him and they were still kissing so much, when they moved somehow and Feliciano’s thigh was in between his. The shock made him stop. Oh, _oh_ , the analytical part of his brain that usually worked better than this realized what Lieve meant. He froze. Feliciano pulled back and tilted his head, it caused his one particularly wild curl to flip up like a little rabbit’s ear.

“I’ve,” Ludwig’s throat was so dry. “I’ve never done this before. Well, I mean I’ve kissed someone but I--”

Feliciano clumsily got off of him, “ I’ve got you.”

“Maybe I should leave?” Beer could make Ludwig feel emotions more intensely than normal, which was horrible, he was already too intense. He dug his nails , as short as they were,into the back of the opposite hand so hard he was sure it would leave marks. He was an idiot.

“What? No! I mean unless you just want to leave, in which case, then yes. But you don’t have to.” Feliciano looked confused.

Confused, not angry, or frustrated. Ludwig relaxed a bit. “I would like to stay, at least for a little while.”

Feliciano smiled, “You can stay as long as you want. How about we climb down to the couch and play Mario Kart? It is the most perfectly infuriating game for drunk people.”

Ludwig unclenched his hands, and managed half a smile, “Which Mario Kart are we talking about?”

“Ludwig, have I treated you wrong at all? Of course, I’m talking Mario Kart 64, only the best for you. Could I maybe kiss you in between rounds? For luck! Luck for you, of course. I’m kind of a big deal.” For someone who had claimed he couldn’t climb the loft ladder drunk he seemed pretty competent at it; he did wobble on the floor a little. 

Ludwig bypassed the ladder entirely, “ Of course you can, but only if you win.”

Feliciano held out his hand, “Deal.”

They kissed a lot, Feliciano was a man of many talents.

***Hour ?***

“Hey sleepy face.”

Ludwig started there was drool on his face, “Yeah?”

“Carmen will kill me if I’m late today, I have to run. But I made you some lovely brunch foods.” 

Feliciano looked different in business casual, well mostly casual really. With the jeans and all, but the bowtie was adorable. 

“Brunch? What time is it?” Ludwig sat up slowly and tried to brush his hair back. It still had too much hairspray in it; he was sure he had just made it worse.

“Noon. Eat brunch, shower, lock the door when you leave we have to protect my N64. But before all that maybe check your phone it has been blowing up.” He leaned down a little and kissed him on the cheek. “I get off at 6-ish, my phone number is by the brunch. Call it. I will call you or text you or whatever.”

“Okay.” Ludwig nodded slowly, it made his head pound.

“Awesome, running now, bye.” He backed away with jazz hands.

Ludwig watched him from the window. He really did take off running. Ludwig slowly leaned over for his phone. If 16 texts had been too many the night before today’s number was absurd. He also had more missed calls than he had ever had in his life. Most of the calls were from Gilbert ,and a good portion of the texts. They got more frantic as they went on. His headache told him to text, but his heart said he should call. He held the phone away from his head for the inevitable shouting. Gilbert picked up instantly.

As it turned out, he hadn’t held the phone far enough away for it to not make his ears ring.

Once Gilbert was reasonably calm, Ludwig apologized over and over, and promised he’d be at his house as soon as he could. He shoveled some food into his mouth without really tasting it, then showered. He used Feliciano’s lavender scented shampoo, and wondered if Gilbert would poke fun at him for smelling like flowers. He tapped Feliciano’s number into his phone and dutifully called it. He wasn’t sure Feliciano would really talk to him again. It had been a good time, but he could only think about the mistakes he just _knew_ he had made. Which took a backseat to the horrible tone in Gilbert’s voice when they talked. He was an idiot, and inconsiderate. 

Gilbert ultimately just clung to him without speaking. Sometimes Ludwig forgot how much their Father’s death had shaken him. They had been estranged at the time, his relationship with Ludwig hadn’t been much better. It had been hard for a long time after that. Until Eliza waltzed into their lives. Eliza who apparently wasn’t in the mood to speak with him at all. He couldn’t imagine anyone else was either. He wasn’t used to being unpredictable, he felt like he had massively let everyone down. He deleted his texts en masse, but did tell Lieve what happened. She also had no idea if Feliciano would really follow up with his promise to contact him.

He alternately slept and moped all day. Six pm came and went, then 7, and 8. He was about to turn in ridiculously early when his phone went off.

He had a text from Feliciano: _I was late. She made me dust everything. I climbed a ladder like one hundred times today. I wish someone was here to lift me into the loft ;). But not really I’m so tired. Dinner soon?_ The message was punctuated with a selfie of Feliciano laying in bed looking adorably disheveled. 

It took Ludwig all of 10 seconds to respond: _Yes so much to dinner._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emil and Nils are predictably Iceland and Norway. Not sure why Denmark didn't blunder in this chapter, so imagine he was running late. 
> 
> Also consent is so sexy.


End file.
